


The End of (the) Fall

by DrScout



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, NSFW Art, many are dead, robocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 10:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3932797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrScout/pseuds/DrScout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There have been losses on both sides, too many to remain enemies. Surviving against the robot invasion was only their first trial as one single team. The bases are destroyed, the supplies running low, and the temperatures are dropping. Sniper and Medic are lucky to not been torn apart. But even if they don’t have to meet in secret anymore to hide from their teams, the circumstances don’t feel right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The amazing [Jute-Moth](http://jute-moth.tumblr.com/) invited me to a collaboration with her, and of course I gladly accepted! I had a fun time, and still feel thrilled about the honor to work with such a lovely, skilled person on a project.
> 
> It goes without saying that the amazing artwork that's subtly hidden in the chapters is her contribution. She contributed two(!!) artworks, one for each part of the fanfic. [Check her tumblr](http://jute-moth.tumblr.com/tagged/collab) for the high quality version ♥
> 
> The prompt I got was: “Sniper and Medic, in a relationship, story, stuff, surprise me”.

* * *

 

 

**\- Part 1 -**

 

“ _It’s winter. Not by the calendar. But the temperatures drop below the freezing point at night, and it hasn’t stopped snowing since the morning. What use is a calendar speaking of fall, when it’s freezing and we’re forced to burn what little oil we’ve left? If the spade doesn’t leave as much as a scratch on the ground in which we’re supposed to bury the dead? What use is it to talk sense to the others when they refuse to listen? I don’t know who’s the fool here; they, or I._

_They tell me it’s all right, yet none of us is making any plans for spring. If the weather doesn’t kill us, it might be hunger. If not hunger…_

_I wonder. How long will we be safe?”_

Medic put his pen aside. He closed the notebook and put it back into the drawer of the desk he had claimed as his when they had fled to the mansion.

“The door is open,” he answered the impatient rapping. 

He pulled the tiny brass key from the drawer’s lock, turning it between his fingers. Had it really been only four months ago when he had decapitated their Sniper for poking his nose through his belongings? Ah, the benefits of respawn! So forgiving of tempers! How easy had it been to get used to the decadent luxury of resurrection! Any of these dilettantes could have learned to operate the convenient devices that he had had at his disposal. Fun times. Lots of running and fresh air. Healing? A flip of a switch, done.

“If I didn’t become rusty… maybe he’d still be…” Two hands were put on his shoulders. He leaned back and looked up. He sighed when he saw the Sniper’s face above him, smiling down at him.

“Guessed you’re still brooding ‘bout that. How long have ya planned to stay in here?” Sniper began to massage the tense shoulders, their muscles hard and stiff and only loosing up slowly.

“Depends. How long has it been?” Medic closed his eyes, growling both in disdain for the Sniper daring to intrude his space and for appreciation. The good these long, callused fingers could do to his sore muscles was a piece of art.

“Three days. Minus the few minutes you sneaked out at night to shower, and pilfer the kitchen.”

“Ach, halt die Klappe, I didn’t  _pilfer_  the kitchen!” He brushed off the well-meaning hands and turned around in his chair. Folding his arms on the backrest, frowned at the lanky Australian.

“Pilfer, rob, raid, whatever you wanna call it, mate.” The gentle smile changed into a grin. “At least ya ain’t becoming some kind of starving martyr.” He laughed when the Medic shook his fist at him. Taking a step back, the Sniper leaned his back against one of the bookshelves and crossed his arms.

“Martyr, pah! Can’t a man have a few moments in peace after a hard bit of work? Shut up now,” Medic cut him short. He took off his glasses and cleaned the dust from them with the hem of his shirt. “Red suits you.”

“You okay with that?” The former BLU Sniper pointed at the red uniform shirt he was wearing. RED’s Sniper had been of the same heigh like him, with slightly slimmer shoulders. The shirt was a bit tight, but wouldn’t tear anytime soon.

“A nuisance when alive, useless now that he’s dead.” Medic put his glasses back on his nose. “This way, at least his clothes serve a purpose.”

“Harsh words.”

“True words,” Medic corrected and smiled. “He was no rival to you.”

“Not only at snipin’, I suppose.” He dared to step closer. His hand reached for the Medic’s chin, but when he bent down, the other man snatched him by his wrist.

“Are you here to flirt?” Medic’s dark blue eyes glared at him as he bared his teeth through a humorless grin.

“Not if ya look at me like that,” Sniper growled back. He intertwined his finger’s with the Medic’s and dragged him up. “Hardhat wants to talk to us. So ya better come with me.” He kicked the chair out of the way and pulled the Medic into his arms. “But I can’t deny I missed ya,” he growled, his face moving closer until their noses touched.

“Good to hear.” His frown softened, and he gave the Sniper’s hand a quick squeeze. Then he shook it off and twisted himself free from the embrace. “Now let’s hear Engineer out.”

“Have I told ya already that ya really have to work on ya romantic side?” Kicking a crumbled piece of paper with the tip of his boots, Sniper rammed his fists into his pockets and trotted after the Medic.

“About 14 times since last month. But who’s counting anyway.”

 

*

 

Engineer and Spy were waiting for them in the Engineer’s workshop. Between them, to the Medic’s dismay, sat a third man, with a tall and slim figure similar to his own. He was wearing glasses on a long, crooked nose that looked remarkably thin in his round face. The hair was black, but unlike his own, the roots were of a blond that matched the eyebrows. The white coat showed the same insignia like his own but in blue. His posture was starched, like his shirt, and even if the flames of hell ever engulfed them, he would still wear his spotless blue tie.

“Look who’s so generously gracing us with his presence,” BLU’s Medic chirped and pointed at two free chairs. “Ach Erich. I already feared it would be my sad, sad duty to cut you loose from a rope around your neck.”

“You…!” Sniper began but contented himself with a hiss when the Medic’s heel drilled into his foot.

“My, Franz, I’m flattered by your concern. Engie, Spy.” He nodded at the two men and took a seat. Sniper pulled up the second chair, turned it around and straddled it, his watchful eyes squinting at his former team-mate.

“I must say, Erich, I admire you. If the boy had died under  _my_  hands- I don’t know if I could have stayed so…  _professional_. So distanced, not to say – indifferent.” BLU’s Medic, Franz, shook his head, making a clicking noise with his tongue. Neither Sniper nor RED’s Medic missed the smirk on his face.

“Boys, we all feel miserable 'bout losing Scout.” The Engineer smiled at the Medic and Sniper in front of him and patted BLU Medic on the back. “I’m sure our Medic did his best, but-”

“His name is – was – Darren,” Franz hissed.

“And if  _you_  had been there he’d of course still been alive. Isn’t that so, Franz?” The RED Medic’s lips twitched, his fingers were tapping on the table in a slow rhythm.

“Sadly, that’s something we’ll never know.” BLU Medic leaned forward, his elbows propped on the table. He pointed at the Sniper. “But I know one thing – that at least  _my_ mind wouldn’t have fucked around with the wrong member of my team.”

“Say that again, ya bloody snake!” Sniper jumped to his feet, slamming his fists on the table. His chair was toppling over behind him.

“Ethan!” Medic shot up next to him, and tried to pull him back. Sniper was leaning over the table, dangerously close to the other Medic. Franz looked up at him, his chin resting on his folded hands.

“Oh please, Sniper. Wait until you two are alone before you release the animal you are.” The sweet, amused smile didn’t cover the malice in his voice.

 

 

“Enough! Asseyez-vous! Tout le monde!” Spy spoke up for the first time since Medic and Sniper had joined them, his sharp tone cutting through the tension. “Sit down! All of you,” he repeated in English.

“Bien.” He pulled his cigarette case from his pocket when the two men fell back onto their chairs. BLU Medic snorted, but leaned back and remained silent.

“Gentlemen, I assure you the loss of the little rabbit pains me as well.” His lighter clicked, a tiny flame flickered and he lightened the end of the cigarette between his lip. “I am sure Docteur Eric did 'is best for our Scout, as you, chèr Franz, would do your best for RED Scout. 'is name is?”

“James,” Engineer answered.

“Of course I would!” BLU Medic shrugged, sighing as he stared at the ceiling. “If he was still alive.”

“So far he’s just missing. I’m sure he’s fine and will soon be back. But that’s not why we called you.” Engineer offered the still scowling Sniper and Medic a warm smile and hurried to change the topic before either of the three stubborn men added fresh fuel to the quarrel.

“We talked about what you said a few days ago, Eric.” The Engineer’s smile dropped. He took off his hard-hat and put it on the table. “Though we’re kinda safe here, for now, the supplies ain’t gonna last all winter. If the robots don’t get us, hunger and cold will.”

The Medic nodded. Finally, someone else was talking sense. There weren’t many left from the two teams, the former enemies. The old Mansion, once the property of the deceased Mann Brothers, offered enough space for them, and safety from rain, snow and the storms. They could stand their ground against the robots for a little while longer, but he had done the calculations; they would run out of oil, wood, and food before wit and firepower.

“So you came up with a plan?” Albeit his curiosity was genuine, he spoke Engineer and Spy, deeming the other Medic unworthy of any further attention.

“Oui.” A spiral of smoke escaped from the Spy’s lips. “We think we have three priorities. First, keep this base safe. Two, gather what we find. Food, weapons, medical equipment, wood, blankets…”

“A bloody big 'two’. And third?” Sniper grunted when Spy continued the list of necessities.

“What in hell is that Gray Mann’s business with 'em machines.” Engineer chuckled, his fingers tapping on his hardhat. “Damn, wouldn’t I give mah leg 'n arm to get my hand on one of those mighty fine things.”

“Thousand 'n one thing to do, buildin’ a base from the scratch, askin’ that bloody wanka why he wants to send us to hell. And an Engineer swooning over the bloody killing machines that already took out half of us. Great plan. We’re as good as dead! Gimme one of your fags. Appreciated.” Sniper held open his hand, rubbing his temple with the other while Spy fetched two more cigarettes from his case. He offered the others to share with him as well, but the Medics and Engineer shook their heads.

“Hot-tempered, as always,” the Spy snickered and shoved his lighter across the table towards the Sniper once he had lit his own cigarette. “Calme-toi, mon ami. The way you put this, it does not sound good.”

“A bit more optimism, son. And trust in mah brain, please.” Frowning at the Sniper, the Engineer pulled a roll of paper-sheets from his tool belt. “While you were busy moping at the moon, we assigned everyone to a task. Demo and Soldier are out scouting the area, and keeping their eyes open for anything of use for mah workshop 'n our weapons. Pyro 'n Heavy check the forest. For wood, animals, good spots for traps.” With a pencil, he pointed at the many lines of messy handwriting, ticking the names off as he explained.

“My red-suited counterpart and I, we test the security.” Spy chuckled, his grin widening when Medic and Sniper shared a glance of confusion. “I locked us in and set up traps. Monsieur Engineer helped me with some new locks. We will see if Pierre joins us soon, or sets off the alarm.”

“Great, now we just have to hope that none of them bloody robots like lock-picking more than just burstin’ inside.”

“Ah, Sniper, you were so jolly when we worked for BLU. Where 'as your sense of adventure gone?”

“Dunno, maybe buried together with our Pyro, or trampled to death by them fuckers like their Demoman?”

“Don’t bitch.” Medic’s knee nudged against the Sniper’s. He had been staring at the Engineer’s papers and listened in silence. Was this really a plan with a chance to work, or blind activism to keep everyone from going desperate, or worse – insane?

“Well, it’s a plan as good as any other,” he finally said, after silencing the Sniper for good with a dark glare. “And better than none. What do you want us to do?”

 

*

 

The gales of Thundermountain, whistling through the forest and howling around the mountains, greeted them. The storm had become an old friend, the kind that had never been liked, but was dear to them as a constant that was always there, resistant to change, and that would always wait. The eponymous thunder rolled in the distance, and instead of curtains of rain, snow danced up and down between dark clouds and the white ground.

“And you’re really sure ya can handle it?” A red scarf muffled the Sniper’s voice. His shoulders and hat were covered by snow, and wiping thick flakes from his glasses had become a reflex.

“Ja ja.” Medic impatiently waved his hand. A scarf and hat also protected his face from the cold. A thick, long winter cloak replaced his usual lab coat. “I didn’t forget how to use a gun since the last time you asked. Two minutes ago,” he added with a grunt.

“Don’t blame a caring man for worrying for your safety!”

“You can stop worrying. I’m able to take care of my safety while you’re still running for a good hiding spot.” He pointed at the rifle on the Sniper’s back.

“Very funny. Did you take joking lessons from that bloody Spy?”

“Don’t underestimate me, mein Lieber. He took joking lessons from  _me_. Well, looks like we’ve arrived.” After two hours of walking through the cold, they had returned. The familiar sight of old rail tracks greeted them. Pathetic piles of rubble and broken boards were scattered over the field that stretched in front of the two wanderers. Half broken-down walls, of wood and stone alike, offered a sad picture instead of the many hiding spots from bullets and grenades.

“Home sweet home.” Sniper set a foot on the wooden bridge that connected two of the buildings.

“Almost. Do you want to go to your base first?”

“Nah. The dump got overrun 'n destroyed before all of us got out.” He stared into the distance, where he once had been deployed. There were no shouts, no laughter, the last cries of triumph were nothing but a memory from the different life he had lived only a few months ago. Before they came, with their red eyes and metal bones. He remembered the smell of oil and fire, and the toxic fumes burning in his throat. The robots had disappeared as quickly as they had come. There was nothing left. Nothing. Only the howls of the wind.

A gloved hand touched his arm. Pulled back to the now, he turned around. Medic had pulled down his scarf and smiled at him.

“We’re alive.”

“Yeah. And on one team now.” He nodded, putting his hand on Medic’s.

They decided that the bridge couldn’t be trusted. The dam that used to hold back the mountain river had burst after the attack of the robots. The river, unimpressed by men and machine, resumed its natural path once it was free to do as it pleased. The bridge wasn’t build to withstand the nagging force of the water. Neither Sniper nor Medic thought the idea of an involuntary bath tempting at these temperatures.

“If we follow the river further downhill we should find a way to cross it. Without swimming.” Medic squinted at the pile of wood and stones that had once been a building’s wall and door. He kicked against it, one time, two times. Only a few smaller stones broke free under the weight of his boot. “Come.” He waved for the Sniper to follow him and began to climb over the barrier.

“A way around the battlegrounds could take an hour or two.” Sniper took the hand Medic offered him, and let himself be pulled up and over the rubbish. “We won’t make it back in the daylight.”

“Finding shelter to dry our clothes wouldn’t speed us up either. Ethan.” He grinned as he pulled Sniper against him, and wrapped his arms around the man’s slim waist. “Is there really nothing left of your sense of adventure?”

“Well, maybe there is, if there’s a treasure to save or a princess to loot.” Sniper pulled his scarf down from his face, shoved his hand under the Medic’s chin, and lifted it up.

“With that attitude, I’m afraid, a doctor is all that’s in for you.” He shrugged and reached for the Sniper’s collar.

“Works for me all right,” Sniper muttered, and let himself be dragged down into a warm kiss.

 

*

 

“Wie kann man nur so bescheuert sein!” Medic sputtered as his head submerged from the water. “Heilandsack! I should neuter you!” The current pulled him back under the river’s surface. He dived up again, spit out the water, and swam at the other side of the river with firm strokes.

“Hey, you pushed  _me_ into the water!” Sniper climbed out of the water. Shaking from the cold and laughter, he knelt down and reached for his friend.

“And  _you_ pulled me with you! Zieh bloß Leine!” He slapped the helping hand away and pushed himself out of the water. “Look at this mess!” He sat beside the Sniper and pulled off one of his boots. A short stream of water poured from it. “I told you, not now and  _there!_ Outside! When it’s freezing! Dummkopf!"he snapped, pointed at the other side of the river, and smacked the wet boot against the Sniper’s chest.

“The bad news, we’re freezing anyway.” Sniper shuddered as the wind lashed around him, cutting through his clothes and skin like dozens of sharp knives. “The good news, I saved us a hike around the river.” He grinned despite his chattering teeth.

“Good news, indeed.” Grumbling to himself, Medic shot an angry glare at the Sniper and stood up. “Now we’ve just to stop freezing to death, preferably without dying from pneumonia only a few days later.”

“Eh, Erich, I’m sorry.” Sniper jumped to his feet and followed Medic, who bit on his tongue to keep down a chuckle. The Australian’s attempts to pronounce the German name always ended with turning the smooth sound into a croaked gargle that died in the Sniper’s throat. He couldn’t help it – it was endearing and made it difficult to stay angry. However, it was for the best when the Sniper didn’t know that his failed efforts had this effect. That would make things too easy.

“Whatever,” he dismissed him with a carefully indifferent shrug. “Come, we have to get out of the cold.”

They didn’t talk much on their way to the former RED Base. Their jaws chattering, the stomped against the growing storm. Snow was weaving a thick, greyish curtain in front of their eyes, deluding their senses. The silent world around them was hiding from their sight; from what they could see, their destination might have been miles away, or within an arm’s reach.

“Finally,” Sniper huffed when he made out the outlines of a tall building through the snowstorm.

“It’s the old warehouse,” Medic shouted against the storm. “The main building is further to the right! The gate was destroyed, we have to walk around and-” A firm grasp around his wrist cut him short.

“Fuck that!” Pulling Medic after him, Sniper steered towards the warehouse. They reached the side entrance within a few minutes. The door was hanging on one hinge, screeching as it was swaying in the wind. But the entrance wasn’t blocked; the walls were still standing, and once Sniper slammed the door open, they were standing inside.

“Holy…! Let’s run upstairs!” Sniper wasn’t believing their luck. A part of the stairway had been destroyed by a detonation, but with each other’s help, they left the gap behind them.

“I can’t believe it. It’s still all here.” Medic gave a laugh and hurried to pull the coat from his shoulders. Boots, gloves, and scarf followed. While unbuttoning his shirt with stiff fingers of one hand, he picked up a wool blanket from an old mattress.

“Get out of the wet clothes and wrap up.” He tossed the blanket at Sniper, who caught it mid-air while staring out of the window.

“Bloody snow. Hard to believe that the base is just a stone’s throw away…”

“Told you days ago, it’s winter, but you fools didn’t listen. Now do as I said. Hypothermia isn’t a joke.” His legs were numb and stiff. The skin burnt from inside when he staggered out of his pants, but he didn’t fell for his body’s deception. He snatched a second blanket and wrapped it tightly around him.

“Ya know, your body could warm me up just fine!” A smirk on his face, Sniper watched him undressing and got rid of his own jacket and shirt.

“That’s exactly what I’m planning to do.” Medic let himself fall onto the mattress, his sneer changing into a lazy grin. “Once you got a fire burning and spread our clothes around it. Oh, and don’t forget to open one of the windows! I haven’t survived a war, robot invasion and you to die from carbon monoxide poisoning.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old news, good news, bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second and final part. Translations once more at the bottom.

* * *

 

 

**\- Part 2 -**

Soon, the flames of a small fire were dancing merrily in the makeshift fireplace they had built last spring. Sniper wrung out their clothes and scattered them across the room. He unpacked their weapons and spare bullets, wiped them dry with a rag, and put them onto the floor, as close to the fire as he considered it to be safe.

Wood and straw crackled and hissed once in a while when the flames devoured a moist piece of timber. Smoke rose and spiraled towards the tilted window.

“Too bad we didn’t hide any food up here,” Sniper groaned, and dropped onto the mattress. He huddled closer to the Medic, who held his blanket open until Sniper had snuggled against him. Medic’s skin was as cold as the other man’s, but when they touched, warmth flashed through him 

“Guess we were too busy hiding here after ceasefire.”

He leaned back against the Sniper’s chest, savoring the faint warmth. He was close enough to hear Sniper’s heartbeat.

That was all.

Nobody was killed, and nobody was dying.

The storm outside, his lover’s beating heart, and both their breathing.

For the moment, they were forced to stay here, in this small shelter that smelled of dusty cloth and moist wood. For the first time in months, they were given a peaceful life, if only for a few hours.

The times were worse than those when they had turned the warehouse’s attic into their private rendezvous point, but unlike then, they didn’t have to fear being found out by one of their nosy team-mates.

The ease of this moment wasn’t worth the price they had to pay, all the destruction, all the deads. But they hadn’t chosen the circumstances, Medic calmed his conscience. They hadn’t planned this, they hadn’t sought to find themselves here, huddling against each other to share their warmth.

“Hate bein’ caught, and not being able to do anything when there’s trouble,” Sniper muttered. His arm was resting on Medic’s shoulders. His face was close, and his warm breath brushed Medic’s ear. A bit closer, and he would feel Sniper’s stubble scratching over his own, smooth cheek.

“But dunno. Don’t worry at all, or care,” he continued. “Weird, eh?”

“Life’s giving us a break.” Medic was staring into the flames; he shook his head slightly and pushed the memory of the Scout and his scorched face out of his mind. “And God knows we deserve one.”

“Yeah. Feeling quite all right now. Eh, Eric,” Sniper suddenly chuckled and bit into the Medic’s ear. “Ya see, falling into the river was a good thing. You should thank me.”

“Thank you?” Medic twisted around and raised to his knees. “Thank you?!” he repeated, seized the Sniper by the shoulders and pushed him down on his back. The blanket fell from his shoulders and slid to the floor.

“We could have drowned. We almost froze to death. You stay down there!” he hissed when Sniper tried to sit up and push him back. “There’s still a chance we catch a cold or pneumonia.” One knee between the Sniper’s leg, he bent over him until their noses almost touched. “We faced death, and why? Because you were horny! Notgeiler Bock!” One of his hands shot up and grabbed the Sniper’s hair. Holding him in place, he lowered his head. His lips felt cold and smooth against the warm and chapped of the Sniper.

Eager fingers were running through his dark hair, glided down over his neck and his shoulders. Short, rough fingernails scratched over his back, leaving shallow red trails that burnt on his skin.

His tongue slipped past the Sniper’s lips and was greeted with a content growl. The arms around him tightened and pulled him down. Arms, chests, they were as cold as the intertwining legs. Sniper’s ragged breathing echoed in the Medic’s ear. His heart was drumming beneath him, as strong as his own, while the heat from where their groins touched flared through his lower body. Rough hands moved down his back and waist and clawed into the skin of his hips.

“Ya can’t deny the hunter to chase after his prey,” Sniper panted when they broke the kiss.

“Hunter, hm?” A grin appeared on the Medic’s flushed face. He reached between their bodies, and his hand closed around the Sniper’s hard cock.

“More like a beast, asking to be tamed.” The grip firm, he moved his hand up. His grin widened with delight when the Sniper closed his eyes and gave a long groan when the Medic’s thumb massaged the smooth glans. The muscles in his own groin tightened. He felt his cock twitch, but when the Sniper’s hand reached for it, he slapped it away.

“Come on, doc, ain’t not the time for playin’.” Sniper’s fingers clawed into the flesh of the Medic’s ass. “Gimme a good fuckin’ already!”

“Why do I have such a weakness for an uncultivated animal like you?” Medic laughed, as he continued to stroke his lover’s dick. Sniper gave a hoarse chuckle that changed into a low moan – he gave up. The eyes closed again, he let Medic’s skilled fingers have their way. He felt the other man’s weight on his chest, and the warm breath huffing against his throat. Teeth nibbled and pulled on his skin. He tilted his head, feeling how red marks were left along his throat and collarbone.

Sniper’s hips twitched. Suddenly, the hand around his dick gave him a strong squeeze. His back arched at the unexpected pressure, and he inhaled sharply.

“Eric…?” His eyelids fluttered open. Caught in a daze, his eyes only slowly focused, leaving the beloved, sharp-featured face in a blurred haze.

“You want a treat? After what happened?” A pair of blue eyes seemed to pierce through the Sniper’s head. “I’ll fuck your ass all night. You’d like that, don’t you?”

Sniper nodded, biting on his lip to stop himself from grinning- which could end in sweet love-making, or in Medic remembering his threat to neuter him.

“Well, then I’ll do that. Once we’re back at the mansion. If you prove me that you deserve it!”

“Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it!”

“Good.” Medic loosened his grip. “I want you to use your head. Because, if you tried again to get yourself killed because you were thinking with that thing, I’ll rip it off! Right after your head! Do you understand?”

“Yeah.” He smiled warmly, and gently stroke through the Medic’s hair and over his face, his fingers tracing his cheekbones and the sharp jawline. “And I love you, too.”

Medic rolled his eyes and grunted, but he didn’t fight back when he was pulled into another long kiss. Impatient to lose himself to his lover’s heat, he felt for his own cock and brought it together with the Sniper’s. The man beneath him shuddered with him as he stroke the two hard dicks. Two arms were thrown around him, embracing him until his shoulders hurt.

 

 

*

 

Sniper blinked against the darkness. A cracking sound had woken him up. It was still in the middle of the night. The wind rattled at the windows and hurled the snow against the glass panes. Only the orange glow of the dying fire emitted a mellow but faint light.

Nothing but the fire’s last struggle, the Sniper concluded and buried his face in the black hair of the man who was deep asleep in his arms. Medic grunted between two gentle snores and snuggled his back closer against the Sniper’s chest. Sniper smiled and felt for the blanket. He found it, and pulled it up, wrapping it around their shoulders. They would freeze to death, but it had become cold in the attic after they both had calmed down, and the thin layers of sweat had been sending shivers down their spines.

Huddled in two wool blankets and holding his lover in his arms, Sniper went back to sleep with a happy smile.

It was still dark when they both shot up.

“You heard that, too?” Sniper hissed, but Medic pressed his hand over his mouth.

“Yo! Anybody there?” a faint voice called from downstairs, as though its owner wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know.

“Isn’t that -”

“Yes!” Medic pushed him away and snatched one of the blankets. Wrapping it around himself, he hurried towards the stairs.

“Yes!” he repeated, raising his voice. “It’s Ethan and Eric up here!”

“Geez! Awesome, man!” Giving a joyful laugh, the intruder crawled up the stairs. The light of a torch lamp flickered, hitting the Sniper, who had crawled to his feet and joined Medic, right into his eyes. A head with dark blond hair and a youthful, flushed face, popped up.

“Jimmy! Dang, you’re alive!” Sniper shouted when the grinning Scout emerged from the stairs.

“Alive ‘n kicking, man. Uh, do I want to know?” The young man flinched and pointed at the Sniper’s nude body.

“Himmel noch eins, show some decency!” Medic slapped the Sniper’s chest with the back of his hand. While the chuckling Australian returned for the second blanket, Medic took a closer look at the Scout’s face.

“Are you all right? You were gone for more than a week! We thought…” He didn’t finish the sentence, instead, he took the torchlight from the Scout’s hand and began to check his eyes and skin. “Clear, normal reaction. Worry about your face, though. A bit too red, maybe frostbite. How long were you wandering outside?” Scout snorted and brushed the Medic’s hand away from his face.

“Geez, doc, I’m fine. Just a bit cold.”

“The fire will warm you up all right! We also have another blanket,” Sniper called, already busy feeding the hungry flames.

Within minutes, the Scout had traded his clothes for a thick old blanket and a place close to the fire. Medic had insisted on giving him a rough check-up and now focused on the youth’s twitching feet. They were indeed showing the first signs of frostbite, along with half a dozen burst blisters.

“The bandages of my medikit are still too wet, I’m sorry, boy.” Medic cleaned Scout’s right heel, seizing the foot firmly by its ankle when Scout tried to jerk his foot away.

“That burns, man!”

“Good, that means it’s working,” Medic declared without mercy and put the small iodine bottle away. “It would be better to have something clean to cover this.”

“Don’t look at me like that, I already apologized!” Sniper raised his hands in defense. Scout, who had been filled in about the fall into the water – without the cause of the little accident, of course, chuckled at the exchange. Then he turned serious all of a sudden.

“Wait! I got one!” He reached for his backpack and zipped it open. Under the two men’s astonished eyes, he produced a few tins of canned foot, another torchlight, several loose sheets of paper along with a newspaper, and finally, a square box.

“Here.” He tossed it at the Medic.

“A first aid kit! But none of the company’s. Where did you get that?!” Medic adjusted his glasses and read the print on the lid. A simple first aid kit, as they were used by most ambulances. He opened the box. Latex gloves, iodine, painkillers, a pair of scissors, band-aids, and of course – bandages.

“Well, while you old farts were lazying around in the mountains I did a little scouting. Ya know?” He grinned, wiggling his feet and earning himself a stern glare from the Medic.

“Scouting. Because I’m a Scout. Uh, get it?” He looked from one face to the other, only to see both of them frown at him. His shoulders sacked and he sighed.

“Anyway, got some good news, some bad news.”

“Good news first,” Medic grumbled and was at once interrupted by Sniper.

“Bad news first!”

“You heard it. Good news. And your feet are done.” Medic wrapped up the remaining bandages and stuffed it back into the first aid kit.

“Thanks, doc.” Scout pulled up his legs, hugged his knees and looked at his feet. “Feelin’ better already. Okay, good news! There are no robots left in the mountains! Seriously, men!” His head jerked up and he beamed at the two men.

“Got down to the village! Well…” His smile faltered.

“What is it, kid? Saw something in the village?” Sniper prompted with an encouraging smile.

“Yeah… no robots…” Scout’s eyes grew dark as a shadow fell over his face. “And no humans either. No living, that is.”

Sniper and Medic exchanged a concerned look.

“They…” Medic cleared throat. “They went after the villagers?”

“Yeah,” Scout’s gloomy voice confirmed his fear.

“But why? Why would that bloody mongrel Gray have them attack civilians who had nothing to do with anything?!”

“That’s another bad news.” Scout picked up the newspaper and handed it to the Medic, who scanned the headlines of the front page. His face became pale.

“Mein Gott…”

“What is it?” Sniper crept closer. After a quick look over the Medic’s shoulder, the color vanished from his cheeks, giving his tanned face an ashen color.

“Fuck…”

“I can’t believe it. Gray Mann, dead.” Medic shook his head, withstanding the sudden urge to hurl the newspaper into the fire.

“Killed by his own toys, more than a month ago,” Scout mumbled. “Good news, we have a whole village stuffed with supplies. Bad news, probably a dozen more villages soon.”

“Guess we should thank our maker that they didn’t find us in the mansion,” Sniper growled to himself.

“Yeah.” Scout’s face brightened a little. “And with the stuff from the village, it’s gonna be a piece of cake! To get through winter, I mean.”

“We gotta talk with the others. There must be a way to stop them motherfuckers from taking over the world!” A grim expression on his face, Sniper went through the things Scout had pulled from his backpack. “You don’t mind?” he asked, holding up a tin with canned chicken soup. He pulled a knife from his own bag and began to work the lid of the can.

“Wonder anyway if they got back before nightfall. And if those damn spooks are still playin’ hide 'n seek,” he pressed through clenched teeth. “Fuck!” His fingers slipped, and the rim of the lid cut into his thumb.

“At least they get along. Give me that, you oaf.” Scowling, Medic took can and knife from the Sniper’s hand. He opened the can with ease.

“Nothing to it, after I’ve worn that stubborn wanka out!” His grumbling met indifferent ears. Sulking in silence, he let Medic take care of the cut.

“Bet Darran’s lazying 'round all day. Ha, that loser!” Scout laughed with a twinkle in his eyes. The scissor Medic was using to cut one of the band-aids fell to the floor, his hands freezing in the air. Scout stopped laughing, shuddering when he saw the grave faces.

“He is fine, yeah? He is, isn’t he?”

“I’m sorry, James.” Medic searched for the scissors, aimlessly playing with them once he found them.

“He’s injured? Yeah, shit happens. He’s gonna be fine 'n runnin’ in no time! Y'all see, we got good stuff now! And there’s more in the village!” Scout’s mouth twitched, and a feverish glow covered his cheeks.

“Jimmy.” Sniper stood up, and sat down by the Scout’s other side, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Darren ran into a stray robot. Heavy and Demo heard the screams. They took that asshole down, but…”

“He was already half dead when they brought him back,” Medic’s monotone voice told the end of the story. “I really tried, but… James, are you all right?” he cried out in alarm.

The Scout’s face was waxen, only his cheekbones were as though on fire. Sweat pearls were running from his forehead into his wide eyes. His jaw was trembling.

“I’m fine. Well, survival of the fittest, eh?” His laugh was hollow and cold. “It’s nothing, man, okay? Stop makin’ a fuss! I’m just tired. Mind if I hit the pillow?”

“You can have the mattress, we had a few hours of sleep already,” Sniper spoke gently, and Medic nodded.

“Thanks, Snipes. Doc.” He nodded at them. His legs were shaking when he stood up. Once he had crawled onto the mattress, he curled up and pulled the blanket over his head.

“They got along well. I didn’t know that.” Medic sighed. “Let me finish with your hand.”

“Don’t know much either.” Sniper kept his voice low, and held out his hand. He flinched when the cut was cleaned with a generous dose of iodine. “Darren helped him with some family trouble some time ago, that’s what I heard. Had something to do with our old Spy who disappeared without a trace two years ago. Since then…” He shrugged.

“Lovers?”

“Don’t think so. Just important to each other. Nothing they’d admit though.”

A faint sob came from the corner of the attic, and the two men fell silent.

 

*

 

“Okay, okay, let’s settle this like real men!” Scout grinned at the two older men. The fresh air gave his face a pink blush, and his smiles were genuine. Only the red-rimmed eyes hinted at what was on his mind, but that was a struggle he wanted to overcome alone.

Sniper and Medic stopped arguing, both glowering at the young man.

“Oh, enlighten us,” Medic snorted. “Of course we need the opinion of a child who is still wet behind his ears, isn’t that so?”

“Shove ya attitude up ya ass, doc.” Unruffled by the unflattering remark, Scout pulled a coin from one of his jacket’s pockets and flipped it at the Sniper.

“Classic coin toss. Ya know, heads is this, tails that, toss that shit, and…” he explained generously when Medic gave him a glare as though he wondered if the Scout had lost his mind.

“Be quiet, I know what a coin toss is. But do you know what you promised me yesterday?” He poked the Sniper’s chest with his finger. “Half of the main base is in ruins. Blown up from inside when we blew the intruders up.”

“You didn’t remember that when we were told to check the base for any supplies of worth,” Sniper retorted, backing away.

“That was before we had an alternative!” He delivered his final argument with a smile of grim satisfaction. “It’s illogical to risk our lives inside a building that will probably collapse over our heads when there is a whole village accessible to us.”

“That’s a two days walk in this weather!”

“Ha!” Medic laughed in triumph. “What if I know a faster way, would you finally shut up?”

“Seriously, guys, whatever! Just get goin’!” Scout was treading on the spot, hugging himself and rubbing his arms. He looked up into the sky – the storm had died down to a steady breeze, and only a few thick clouds were covering the clear blue sky. “I’m freezing!”

“Good, it’s decided. Follow me!” He turned around on the heel, followed by the cursing Sniper and shivering Scout as he stomped through the snow.

They had to climb over more broken walls, but after the best of an hour, they reached a fenced area behind the base. The length they were facing had been torn down. An array of sheds had been destroyed when the robots had walked through them. They passed the debris, and finally, Medic had led them to his destination.

“Cool!” Scout dashed ahead as soon as he spotted the van.

“It belonged to my team’s Sniper,” Medic explained with a contented smile. “He kept it fuelled and ready to go. A matter of principle.”

“Hm.” Sniper walked around the van, and kicked against one of the tires, freeing it from snow and small icicles. “Sturdy tires. Perfect for off-road driving.”

“Sweet, but there’s one problem.” Scout opened the passenger’s door and peeked inside. “There’s no key!”

“Who needs a key!” Medic chuckled and headed for the driver’s door.

“Just a bloody moment!” Sniper leaped after him and shoved him away from the door. “First off, this should be my spot. Second, what do you think you’re doing?!”

“Stop sulking already, you baby. What do you think I’m going to do? Hot-wiring the car, of course! And the one who starts it is going to drive it.”

He pushed the Sniper out of his way with eyes – his jaw dropped, he gaped at the Medic. Scout found his voice faster.

“You know how to hot-wire a car?! Can you show me?!” Scout jumped eagerly on the passenger’s seat, his eyes glued to the Medic’s hands.

“Get your ass on the back seat, you bloody gremlin, now!” Sniper had reached the passenger’s door and encouraged the Scout to climb behind the front seats by half throwing him from the passenger’s seat. “You’ve really done this before?”

The howls of the engine drowned the Medic’s laughter.

“Have I never told you the story how I freed Archimedes from that fake wedding cake?” He put the car into reverse, hit the gas. Slowly, the engine protesting against the cold, the van set into motion.

“Tell us on the road.” Sniper’s good mood was returning when the van rolled from the parking area. The tires crunched steadily through the snow, and the heating soon warmed them up.

“And now, we get to the village, stuff this baby with everything we find,” Sniper continued, patting the dashboard. “And head back home. Once we’ve shoved the news into the other guys’ faces, we have a whole winter to figure out a plan to save the world, right?”

“That’s what I call an adventure!” Scout’s voice piped up from behind, and he flung himself around the back of the Sniper’s seat.

“That’s not a game, mate,” Sniper warned, and ruffled through the Scout’s hair. “Doubt a pretty sight is waiting for us, from what you said last night. Eric, what’s up? So silent all of a sudden? Want me to drive after all?” He let go of the Scout. With a smirk on his face, he ran his finger’s over the Medic’s neck, tugging a strand that had grown into a curl over the last weeks.

His eyes fixed on the road ahead, Medic began to mutter to himself.

“Grüß Gott, i bin der Tod  
Vorbei is deine Not  
Komm dei Zeit is um  
Geh mach ka Theater  
I bin’s, der Gevatter.”

“Fuck, that sounds grim.” Scout shuddered. “What was that?”

“Ah, nothing,” Medic sighed, and turned on the radio, but all he could find was static. “It’s an old German poem. Don’t think too much about it.”

“Got that much, but what does it mean?” Sniper stopped playing with his lover’s hair. Medic glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

“Don’t worry, mein Lieber. It means, everything will be fine. Because that’s how adventures always end.”

And when he heard the Scout’s sigh of relief and saw the smile on his Sniper’s face, he, at least for the moment, believed in his words, too.

* end *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation German - English
> 
> Notgeiler Bock! => desperately needy and horny male goat! (The German Not has nothing to do with the English “not”. As a noun, it can mean “misery, distress, emergency, to be in need, poverty,…“. Geil = horny, notgeil = a person so uncontrollably horny that it’s pathetic)
> 
> Himmel noch eins => For Heaven’s sake
> 
> Mein Gott… => My God…
> 
> “Grüß Gott, i bin der Tod => G’day, I’m the Grim Reaper  
> Vorbei is deine Not => Your misery is over  
> Komm dei Zeit is um => come, your time has run out  
> Geh mach ka Theater => come on, don’t make a fuss  
> I bin’s, der Gevatter.” => It’s me, the Grim Reaper
> 
> (Medic lied. It’s not a German poem. It’s part of a song, “Der Tod”/“The Grim Reaper”, and it’s from an Austrian band, and that’s all I’m saying in my defense.)

**Author's Note:**

> Translation German - English 
> 
> Ach, halt die Klappe! => Ah, keep your mouth shut!
> 
> Mein Lieber => My dear
> 
> Wie kann man nur so bescheuert sein! => How can anybody be so stupid!
> 
> Heilandsack! => Short for “Heiland Sakrament!” ~ “Savior Sacrament!” which is used to express something like:”Holy shit, hope Jesus curses you!” or - “Fuck this shit!” 
> 
> Zieh bloß Leine => Just get lost!


End file.
